


希

by MintChocolateLeaves



Series: KaiShin Oneshots [1]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 19:10:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12394365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintChocolateLeaves/pseuds/MintChocolateLeaves
Summary: Soulmates, Kaito’s been told ever since he could listen to the words, have been capable of sending messages to one another with ink pressed against skin. And now, his is recommending mystery novels, and all he wants, is to meet the person behind the writing.





	希

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BakaThief](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BakaThief/gifts).



> This fic is a birthday present for Bakatheif on tumblr!  
> The title ‘希’ translates into ‘hope’ and I sincerely hope you enjoy it!

****

The first time invisible hands scrawl ink into Kaito’s hand, it’s not meant as a message.

It’s the name of a book, a memo that Kaito glances down at. He’s heard of the book and even though he’s only thirteen, and the book is typically aimed at adults, it’s a trend that’s spreading through the school like wildfire.

Kaito looks down at the name of the mystery novel, rolls his eyes, and grabs his pen from where it’s been left at the edge of his desk. He’s never been the biggest fan of detective books, and so he crosses out the detective Samonji with a single line.

Then, he focuses back on his class, trying not to think any more about what the writing means. Soulmates, Kaito’s been told ever since he could listen to the words, have been capable of sending messages to one another with ink pressed against skin.

Kaito, who’s never looked too intricately into the scientific research available on soulmates, decides that he’s not going to make a big deal out of things. Or rather, he isn’t going to  _now,_ not when he’s in the middle of a math lesson, trying to focus on what his teacher is saying.

He feels more tingling on his hands. Glancing down shows that the message has been erased and rewritten. Kaito smiles, crosses it out again. This time, he adds a recommendation of his own, a more adventurous book with magic and fantasy intricated into the plot.

The recommendation – one of his favourite books of the year – is crossed out with the word  _‘no’_ written beside it. Then, the detective Samonji book is written out, the words –  _Stop crossing it out_  – written beside it.

His soulmate, Kaito presumes, is going to be fun to mess around with.

He crosses the title out again.

* * *

It’s not until a few days later however, that it really sinks in what this means.

Kaito is on his way to school, having walked half the route, Aoko swinging her bag as she walks beside him, when the realisation sinks in. He stops walking, almost abruptly, and tilts his head.

He has a soulmate.

Somehow, he’d thought he’d fall into the larger demographic of people without them. Kaito doesn’t know, but he’d always just assumed that the closeness he’s got with Aoko, their playfulness was something akin to romance, and yet – the universe has come to change things up for him.

He doesn’t even know his soulmate’s name.

All he knows is they’re Japanese – wait… not even that. He knows that they  _speak_ Japanese, and that they want to read a mystery novel. Kaito wonders whether he should read it, just to see if his soulmate has good taste.

“What’s up, Kaito?” Aoko asks, turning back to look at him.

Kaito offers her a smile, falls back into step beside her, and says, “oh it’s nothing. I’m just thinking about my soulmate.”

Aoko takes it in about the way Kaito is expecting her to. She snorts, turns away from him and says, “Aoko pities whoever ends up being Kaito’s soulmate. The amount of stress they’ll have to go through while enduring all of the pranks.”

Laughter echoes the street, Kaito’s own, as he realises it’s true, and that if he’s going to impress (see: torture) his soulmate with various pranks, he’s going to have plan better things. Bigger ones – he’s working with someone who likes mysteries, he’s going to have to fool him.

* * *

Later, in class, he scrawls words onto his hand.

_Did you read the mystery book?_

He only has to wait a few seconds before the word ‘yes’ is scratched into his skin, something he removes with spit as he readies himself for a response. He doesn’t ask if he’d enjoyed it, because the Samonji books are on their forty-first edition and his soulmate wouldn’t be at this point if he didn’t like the series.

Who reads a series with more than ten volumes though –  _it’s unreal._ That much content for a single series, Kaito wonders whether his soulmate has ever gotten bored of reading the same characters  _over and over._

_Good, now you have time to read my rec!_

The response is immediate.  _No._

Kaito pouts, and sticks his tongue out. Which, is hardly any use, seeing as Kaito is sat in the middle of class, reacting to someone who can’t see  _him,_ only the words written on his body.

 _Mean._ Kaito writes in response, adding a small doodle of a sad face, and a thumb’s down.  _It’s a good book._

_Maybe, but it’s not the genre I typically read._

Kaito decides that somehow or the other, he will force his soulmate to read the goddamned book. Even if he has to write the entire thing on his hand, sentence after sentence – he will  _succeed_ and force his soulmate to broaden his horizons.

 _I’m Kaito,_ he writes after a while. He’ll go through with the book idea on the weekend, he thinks. For now, an introduction will suffice. The response is longer this time, and Kaito isn’t sure  _why_ , but there is a hesitation, as if giving away names is something to be wary of.

It’s got to be all those mystery novels, making the other boy paranoid. They’re only teenagers after all.

_I’m Shinichi._

* * *

They decide on rules as they continue to age.

Most of them, of course, are stupid rules that they’d follow without the need to make rules at all, but they’re there just for the comfort value. No messages to one another during exams. No writing on… intimate areas, or the face.

Obvious things that Kaito wouldn’t do, but  _wants to_ now that they’re rules. He’s always had an inclination towards breaking rules, something that he’s not really been disciplined against, and some days he finds himself wanting to break every rule they’ve place on themselves.

He doesn’t – although he often imagines scenarios where he does. Kaito thinks that he’ll spare Shinichi any trouble until they  _actually meet_ , and find their own boundaries as a pair.

A  _pair,_ because even by the time they turn sixteen Shinichi hasn’t been able to decide whether their soulmate bond is platonic or romantic. Kaito’s pretty sure with the faint amusement he feels every time he sees words pop up on his hands that it’s romance.

Oh well, Kaito will just have to let him remain oblivious. If only for now.

He almost puts all thoughts of romance on hold however, when he takes up the mantel of KID. Kaito dons the signature white suit, monocle and top hat, makes sure to wear gloves to avoid any police officers catching on to the fact that he’s got a soulmate.

And it works, for the two of them at least.

Kaito feels an all too familiar ache every time he reads about Shinichi’s day, about what he’s done with his friend  _Ran,_ the girl he seems to be completely in love with. And it churns his stomach because they’re soulmates and they shouldn’t… they should love  _each other_ , not other people.

Shinichi is throwing away the entire premise of soulmates.

It’s frustrating, unwritten words wrapped around Kaito’s throat, because he can’t  _write them,_ they need to be said, but he can’t just… Kaito can’t say them either, seeing as they’ve never even  _met._

They both live in Tokyo, and yet – Kaito feels a sigh rise, lets it slip from his tongue – they’ve never come across one another.

* * *

_I want to meet you_ , Kaito writes one day, during the middle of science, when he should be listening to the teacher drone on and on about titration curves. He’s slightly sleep deprived, lacking sleep from his heist the day before, and he writes the words before he really thinks about it.

He’s not sure why he’s writing it, what exactly will change? They’ll meet, and then what? Shinichi will still love Ran, and Kaito will have to hide his feelings in person rather than in writing.

And yet, there’s also a part of him that hopes Shinichi will see him and realise. Everything muddles in his head, the thoughts malformed, interweaved from tired thoughts and painful optimism.

 _Okay,_ Shinichi writes back.

It takes a little longer for the words to come out, but they still appear. Shinichi’s hesitant… Kaito isn’t sure why he would be. He waits a little longer, thinks to himself a good enough date, or a place for them to meet.

 _Is Sunday okay?_ Shinichi writes.  _I’m at Tropical Land with Ran on Saturday. But the day after-_

Kaito bites his lip. Their trip to tropical land together isn’t a… date, is it? He doesn’t feel brave enough to ask, so he doesn’t. Instead, he says Sunday sounds good, and they decide to meet in Café Poirot, in the Beika district.

The fact that they’ll meet soon, fills Kaito with a giddy sort of glee.

And he only has to wait a few more days.

* * *

_Hey, I’m excited for tomorrow!_

Kaito knows he probably shouldn’t write that, but he grabs a pen from his pocket in the evening, grins as he spreads ink across his hand. It smudges slightly, but he knows Shinichi will understand what he means, having been reading his handwriting for years now.

The ink sinks into his skin. It fades away.

And Kaito glances down at his hand, wondering where exactly the ink has gone because within all reason it shouldn’t be possible for ink to just  _disappear,_ not all at once within seconds – Shinichi isn’t that fast at washing things off.

His eyes widen.

_Shinichi?_

He adds, horror spreading through him when he realises that the words are disappearing before his very eyes. Kaito glances towards his laptop, practically  _dives_ towards it attempting to find a search engine that can explain this phenomena to him.

After fifteen minutes of searching, his heart thumping against his ribcage with a ferocity that makes him feel like he might  _pass out_ , Kaito clicks onto an old research project. He scours the page, breath stuttering in his chest as he realises that this… this can’t be possible.

 _Soulmates,_ the article reads,  _will only transfer words unto one another when they are both living._

Kaito blinks away something that might be tears, sees white and bites into his lip. They’re cracked, bleeding where his incisors have pierced skin and he almost feels as if this is some sort of bad dream, but when he pinches himself, Kaito does not wake up.

His heart aches.

His hand sends a jolt of pain down the bone as he flings it towards the wall, mutters  _‘dammit’_ as he slumps against his bed, knuckles split and bleeding, sore but not the type of pain he spends much time thinking over.

“I’ll go to the café tomorrow anyway,” Kaito mutters, because  _this must be a joke,_ he’d been talking to other boy earlier this morning, feeling angry about the boy’s connection with Ran, “he can’t be… he can’t be  _dead?_ ”

Shinichi just… can’t be  _gone._

* * *

There is no one to greet him other than the waitress at the café.

Kaito sits in a booth by himself, waiting, fingers itching for the pen he carries for every message he sends to Shinichi, and shivers. He does a quick search in Shinichi’s name and tries to figure out the surname of the boy he’s fallen in love with.

They’ve never given them. In all the years, Kaito had always thought they’d exchange names upon meeting one another, it had been another silly rule they’d imposed, so the other couldn’t get any preconceived ideas about the other through the internet or the news or…

Now, he searches until his eyes grow wet, tears forming and dripping down into hot chocolate. He’s not cried in years, and yet now it feels too painful to keep up a poker face, especially when he feels he needs it the most.

It’s as if… some part of him has been severed and he doesn’t know how to cope without it. Red string cut, leaving him aching, lost without an idea of what he should do next.

He grabs his pen from his pocket, pulls off the lid and pushes a single line into his hand. The words fade, lost, just like his connection with Shinichi.

* * *

If anyone notices a change in Kaito’s actions following his planned meeting with Shinichi, they don’t bring it up. Maybe they realise something has happened because he’s not scribbling on his arm, or maybe they don’t pay enough attention in the first place, but there is no talk of Shinichi at all.

Kaito goes through his average day to day life, attempts not to think about the fact that Shinichi is obviously  _dead,_ and plans his heists instead. He searches newspaper articles for any mention of his soulmate’s death – finds nothing regarding a young teenager in the obituaries.

It does not fill him with hope, but rather, dread.

Something has happened to Shinichi and he will never know for certain what exactly that  _means._ He throws himself into his work as KID, plans more and more heists, each one more outrageous that the others.

Kaito pushes himself every time he receives a challenge, becomes a better phantom thief than he’d ever imagined he could be, and slowly… he crumbles apart. He fades like the words against his skin until at last he finds himself a ghost, the perfect thief who wears nothing but a poker face and a faked, widened smile.

Time drags outward until finally he decides to steal the black star from the Suzuki family, people he vaguely recalls from conversations with Shinichi. Or rather, he assumes the youngest daughter is the Sonoko that Shinichi complains about.

Maybe a part of him is wishing to get some understanding about what has happened to his soulmate, to know whether he is dead or not, but Kaito isn’t sure. He’ll steal the jewel for the father he’s lost, and he’ll find out the truth about the soulmate who’s  _gone._

He’ll disguise as Ran. She’s easy enough to impersonate from the gushing rambles Kaito’s read over the years, and it’s not even like dressing up as her requires much work – she’s a good target. Plus… Even without him present, Kaito wants to be the object of Shinichi’s affections, even if he needs to be someone else to receive it.

Not that Kaito thinks the dead care for identity theft anyway.

Mouri Ran – a karate champion, it’s obviously the same Ran he’s heard about for years – will probably care for it. But he’ll give her a dose of sleeping gas, bring her to the brink of sleep before leaving her for the heist.

First, he’s got to send his heist notice. He wants to do it in two parts, one for April fools, to see who exactly he’s going up against, and the second part to ready himself for the actual event.

The fireworks catch him off guard when he climbs to the roof of a hotel. There’s a small child, arrogance rolling off of him in a way that catches him off guard, but he quickly catches himself, readies himself for the mass of police officers that he knows will arrive soon.

“I know you did that on purpose,” he tells the child, and then, “who are you?”

There hadn’t been any indication that a small child would show up at his pre-heist. It’s beyond late, and Kaito’s lacking any information on a child like this – probably just a straggler who’s somehow come across his heist notice, Kaito will have to research him a little more at some point, see what the internet brings up.

“Edogawa Conan,” the child says, “a detective. What will you do next?”

Kaito grits his teeth.

It’s not that he doesn’t have a plan – he does. Kaito’s got plans for every element of his heists, if something goes wrong he’s got hundreds of outs, multiple possibilities for what can happen as his crimes continue.

“You’ve really got me cornered kid,” Kaito lies. He glances at the police helicopters, imagines if Shinichi would have ever come to a heist, and turns away. He escapes with ease, leaves his heist notice behind, and tries not to wonder about a child wanting to catch him.

* * *

Of course, as soon he realises that Edogawa is living with Ran, Kaito knows he needs to mess with him a  _little bit._  He’s got the biggest crush on his neechan that Kaito  _has_ to bring it up in some format.

He messes with him the littlest amount when they’re alone on the cruise ship, the black star in his hand. Kaito has to dodge a flying soccer ball, the force enough to break wall –  _frankly, he doesn’t deserve this –_ but it’s all worth it for the way the kid goes red at the thought of his precious neechan being left naked in one of the lifeboats.

Edogawa, however, is someone Kaito decides he doesn’t want to see again. He’s freakishly smart for a child, is only six or seven, and yet he’s  _capable of seeing through his disguises._  Not even Aoko is capable…

So, with a wave, and a crackle of a smoke bomb, he removes himself, and the black star from the cruise ship.

* * *

Of course, because the world is cruel and seems to hate him, Edogawa continues to show up at heists. He thinks it’s Suzuki Sonoko’s fault, she’s practically as big a fangirl as he would be, if he weren’t  _actually_ KID. And it’s frustrating, because as much as he hates seeing the kid, it’s almost fun having heists where he needs to think on the spot.

Although, he does start to despise footballs. He’d be a masochist if he didn’t.

All of the heists with the kid are fine, Edogawa is scarily smart – which is alright, as long as he doesn’t get Kaito caught, or meddle too much – but ultimately, Kaito enjoys them.

Until, of course, he has to prepare for a heist where they stamp ink for recognition onto the hands of people who have been proven not to be KID. Kaito, still unable to place ink on his hand, less it disappear, finds himself borderline freaking out as he wonders who he needs to disguise as.

It takes a while to think over the possibilities. Until finally he remembers the way Aoko’s father, Inspector Nakamori, had found a soulmate in his wife, and hasn’t been able to write words against his own skin since she’d passed away years before.

He’s always avoided disguising as the man for that simple reason, but now… in a situation like this, it’s the only disguise he can really  _have._

Not even Edogawa seems to catch on, until he’s breaking free past the bottom floor, shimmying through a vent leading to the lower floors – his motorcycle is just out back, he’ll have to take that.

The gem feels like lead in his pocket. Even now, Kaito knows it’s not Pandora. He checks anyway, lifting the jewel up to the sky, peering through it to see the moon shining above.

The sky is warm, and the light is bright, but it doesn’t leave him washed in red, he is not blinded with red.  _Of course_ , he’s failing with Pandora, but it’s his goal and Kaito knows he’ll fulfil all goals he sets for himself.

 _Well…_ All but one.

He starts up his motorcycle, turns to glance over at the sound of footsteps. It’s only Edogawa – scarily smart Edogawa Conan – so he doesn’t feel the need to speed away immediately. They always seem to have short conversations, before Kaito makes his hasty exits.

“I didn’t expect you to impersonate the inspector,” Edogawa breathes when he comes to a stop, meters away from the motorbike. Kaito turns his head to glance at him, the front of his cap pulled down to cover his face. “Why would you make things harder for yourself like that?”

Kaito bites the inside of his cheek. He lifts his chin, and offers a smile, “I’m a magician, we like doing the impossible.”

“The inspector lost a  _soulmate,”_ Edogawa says, “ink disappears from his skin, not even magicians can fake that eff-”

The child pauses, glances down at the pavement. Something swims in his eyes, an emotion that Kaito doesn’t quite care enough to decipher, and after a moment, he clenches his hands together.

“You had a soulmate,” Edogawa says, more a statement than a question, “didn’t you?”

Kaito bites his tongue – the kid detective might have his respect, but he will not go into this with a  _child._

“I’m sorry.” Edogawa adds, and then, as if he’s not apologetic at all – “what happened to them?”

He smothers a bitter laugh. Kaito knows that as smart as Edogawa is, he’s still young, doesn’t deserve any spite thrown in his direction. And yet, still he feels it rising up, a twisted smile tugging at his lips as he looks the boy in the eye.

“Who knows,” he says, and with a flick of his fingertips, there’s a poof of smoke as he changes from a cap to his motorcycle helmet. He turns his keys in the ignition, heaves out a sigh. “Won’t you solve that one for me, detective?”

* * *

“Kaito,” Aoko says when she finally reaches her limit of sympathy regarding what she calls Kaito’s  _‘Shinichi situation._ “Aoko is getting tired of this, just talk to Shinichi and fix whatever argument the two of you have had.”

Kaito flinches at the idea of being able to fix anything, and shudders when he realises he’s never  _actually_  corrected Aoko on the fact that Shinichi’s dead, and not just ignoring him.

“It’s not that easy…” Kaito tries, raising his hands in a mock surrender. He’s been trying to keep an efficient poker face, and yet, he’s obviously let Aoko know that his  _‘Shinichi situation’_ is weighing on his mind more than he’s letting on.

 _“Of course_  it’s not,” Aoko sighs, exasperated as she stalks forward and crosses her arms. “It’s never easy to stop an argument because Kaito is way too stubborn to apologise for things, and the same goes for what Aoko knows about Shinichi.”

Kaito glances away, unable to refute because he’s always been strong-willed, but unwilling to admit that there’s a different reason. Both he and Aoko know that he keeps too many secrets, he’s not ready to disclose  _any_ of them.

“Kaito met with Shinichi right?” Aoko says, and Kaito doesn’t miss the movement of her hand flicking into her pocket, hand clenched around what he expects to be a pen, “did you two argue when you met one another, is that why you don’t  _write_ anymore?”

An awkward laugh. Kaito readies himself to leave his chair, to escape from Aoko in the small gap between class changeover, as they wait for their next teacher to enter the room.

“He didn’t show up,” the truth, although he doesn’t mention that he’d known from the evening before that Shinichi wouldn’t…  _couldn’t…_ show. “And we’ve not talked since. It’s not stubbornness, Aoko, it just  _is._ ”

Aoko shakes her head. “No, it’s more than that, Kaito is sad, and I want to make him feel better.”

She lunges forward before he has time to react. Which is certainly,  _something,_ seeing as she’s going up against  _Kaitou KID._ Kaito moves just in time to avoid her arm crashing into his, moves his arm from reach as she uncaps the marker pen she’s been hiding in her pocket.

“Aoko what the hell?” Kaito says, as he scrambles away from his chair, jumping across one of the desks. Without any hesitation, Aoko continues to advance, weaving between their classmates as she attempts to mark his hand.

“Shinichi will respond,” Aoko says, “if Kaito just bridges the gap.”

Kaito lets his eyes widen. There is no talking to ghosts, just becoming a phantom himself during his heists. You can’t-

“I tried,” Kaito says, and Aoko falters just for a moment, “I’ve tried, so just leave it be-”

She doesn’t, she keeps coming nearer to him until finally Kaito is cornered, ready to slip away from Aoko’s grasp. And then – He feels pressure against his hand. Just a line, something he looks down at in horror.

He’d forgotten that Aoko would have asked for Hakuba’s help.  _Of course she would._

“What is wrong with-” Kaito pulls his hand back, away from their view, staring down at the marked skin. They’re… they’re going to know now, that Shinichi’s  _dead,_ that Kaito has been lying in order to make sure no one worries about him… “with…”

Except… the line doesn’t fade.

“What…?” Kaito breathes, glancing at the light blue that’s remaining in view. Aoko and Hakuba are quiet, watching as Kaito numbly returns to his seat, staring at the line as if it’s the most wonderous thing he’s seen in his life.

And then-

_Kaito?_

The writing is so familiar it sends a shiver down his spine, and it’s all Kaito can do not to sob in the middle of class. His poker face cracks, but holds together, _somehow,_ as Kaito glances down at the same penmanship he’s been reading for years.

He reaches into his pocket, shiver running down his spine as he pulls out his own pen. Something easy to wash off, something that will be gone quick enough for a second message to take its’ place.

_You died._

A pause – the ink doesn’t disappear, and yet the lack of an immediate response leaves acid churning in his stomach, nervousness filling him up, ready to spit him out with nothing but anxiety spurring his actions.

_Almost. But I’m okay now._

Kaito lets out a staggered breath. Excuses himself from the classroom with the excuse that he needs the bathroom. As soon as he’s inside, he splashes water against his face, grabs his pen.

_The ink kept disappearing. That only happens to the dead._

Another pause. It fills him with trepidation.

_I’m sorry. It’ll be sorted soon, but I won’t be able to write again for a while. One day I’ll explain it to you._

This time, his breathing halts, shudders jarring through his body as bile rises to his throat. Shinichi’s going to just disappear again…? This isn’t how it’s supposed to work.

_I’ll give you my phone number instead, okay? Kaito?_

All Kaito can do, is nod. It’s half hearted, breathless, a response that Shinichi cannot even  _see,_ and yet, for a moment it’s all he can give. Then, he scrawls ‘ _yes’_ against his skin.

Shinichi’s number, something Kaito types into his phone before the ink has any time to dry, stays on his hand for all of three minutes, until Shinichi rubs it off. He replaces it with,  _text me from now on, I don’t think we’ll be able to write messages for a while._

Kaito wants to know why, wants to find Shinichi and shake him until he figures out the reason why. Instead, he grabs his pen and writes.

_If you’re alive, why’d you miss our meeting?_

This time, the words fade.

Kaito doesn’t have the courage to ask through text.

* * *

Knowing that Shinichi,  _is,_ in fact alive, brings less comfort that Kaito would have expected. Mainly, because it brings more questions. Why hadn’t Shinichi arrived at the meeting they’d set up? If Shinichi’s alive, how come their bond had been broken, something that breaks only when a person  _dies._

And Shinichi himself – he’d known more, had stated he couldn’t explain  _right now_ , but that eventually he could… Kaito isn’t sure what that means, and the ‘almost’ dying leaves Kaito with unreasonable chills as he tries to figure out what it means.

He can’t just ask, but he  _can_ attempt to do some research. Not as himself, of course, because he doesn’t want anyone to lead it back to  _him_ and start treating both Shinichi and him as biological anomalies, but he is KID, so disguising himself will be fine.

Kaito creates a fake identity, gets the paper work together and assumes the role of medical reporter Haneda Satoshi. His fake ID and papers get him into a research lab with leading soulmate researcher Ito Megume.

“So,” Ito begins once they’ve both sat down, a coffee table between the two of them. Kaito pulls out a notepad from his bag, a voice recorder too, just so he fully fills the role of reporter. “You have some questions for me?”

Kaito nods. “Yes, we want to run a special on soulmate bonds, seeing as many people know next to nothing about them.”

He turns the recorder on, presses the record button.

“That’s because most people don’t show physical traits,” Ito begins, “so they think they don’t have a soulmate and they don’t learn about the bonds.”

“How do we know that everyone has a soulmate if we can’t see it?”

“Well…” The researcher taps a finger against her chin, takes a moment to think. “The signs are all very different. We know the obvious yet rare signs of soulmates, ink transferring across skin, birthmarks that match that of your soulmate. But there are more internal ones – sharing one’s pain across two people, being more in tune with one another’s emotions.”

Kaito nods.

“Soulmates are always present. There’s always a red string of fate that keeps us tied together, whether we wish for it to or not, whether it’s easily seen or not.”

Now, Kaito leans forward and crosses his arms. He rests his notebook on his knee, pretends that he’s looking at a question before proceeding.

“And these red strings of fate, there’s no way of breaking them?”

Ito shakes her head. “None, not if we’re excluding death. You can’t just decide,  _‘this person isn’t going to be my soulmate anymore_ ’, they’ll always be there, whether you decide to act on it or not.”

Confusion blossoms inside him like a flower. “Do you mind if I use an example, for a moment?”

The researcher nods, grey strands of hair drooping by her ears from the bun she’s pulled her hair back into. “Go ahead.”

“I’ll use a physical trait,” Kaito begins. “The soulmate bond where ink transfers across to the user, for example. When a person dies, the ink has nowhere to go, so it disappears, right?”

Ito nods.

“But suppose,” Kaito continues, “the ink disappears when they’re both still alive. Is there a way that could be possible?”

The researcher rubs at her ear as she thinks, before shaking her head. She says, “I don’t think so. As soon as both soulmates reach puberty, their bond comes into effect. It’s irreversible while alive. Only children and the dead don’t carry the bonds.”

Kaito nods, despite the fact  _none of this makes sense._

By the time he leaves the room, he’s determined to find an answer. He pulls out his phone, pulls up Shinichi’s number and sends out a text, demanding he explain  _everything._

 _Soon,_ Shinichi texts back.  _As soon as I can, I will._

* * *

_Soon_ turns out to be three months later.

Shinichi sends Kaito a text message when he is scoping out his latest heist location, dressed as a maintenance worker in order to get some idea of the electronics within the area.

Kaito glances at his phone, opens the text and blinks at the fact that there’s just a location.  _Sakura bridge._ He stares, takes a moment to think about how long it’ll take to drive there – with his motorbike, it should take no more than twenty minutes.

 _Come now,_ Shinichi adds after a moment,  _if you can._

Kaito responds that he’ll be right there. It takes a minute to worm his way out of the maintenance work, another minute to shed his disguise and get into the car park.

“Shinichi,” Kaito says, but the name is swallowed up by the sound of his motorbike as he revs and makes his way out of the car park.

* * *

Sakura bridge, despite its name, is not littered with cherry blossoms. The nearest plant to the bridge are hedges, perfectly cut – the trees that could leave cherry blossoms floating among those wandering across further back from the bridge.

It’s not packed, like Kaito remembers it being during festivals, which should make it easier to find Shinichi. He bites into his lip, realises that without an idea of the person he’s looking for, they won’t be able to find one another.

As soon as he comes to this realisation, Shinichi seems to as well. His phone buzzes with an incoming call, and Kaito presses answer with a quiet trepidation filling his bones.

“Kaito?” Shinichi asks, when he realises Kaito’s not spoken first. His voice is soft, slightly worried but with a kindness to it that Kaito had thought would sound sarcastic instead.

“I don’t know what you look like,” Kaito finally says, and he turns, glancing around the entirety of Sakura bridge for a teenage boy and coming up short. There are many, but he doesn’t really think they give off a  _Shinichi_ vibe. “I’m going in blind here.”

“Yeah,” Shinichi says, “we’ll meet in the middle, and then… well, I’m wearing a red scarf, if that helps?”

There are hundreds upon thousands of red scarfs in the world, and yet, somehow it does. Kaito hums approval, walking further down the bridge until he’s at the centre, his eyes searching around for red fabric.

“Okay,” Kaito says after a moment, running a hand through his hair and messing it up further, “I’m here. Are you?”

“Yeah.”

Kaito’s pretty sure that he sees him then, red fabric across a teenager who he knows as Kudo Shinichi from newspapers. A face missing from the news as long as their bond has been broken.

For a moment, Kaito can only stare, ignoring the voice from the phone. This is – He’s –

_Alive._

Clicking the call off, Kaito pockets his phone, walks up behind Shinichi, and taps on his shoulder. Shinichi turns, offers a smile and says, “you must be Kaito.”

“Shinichi,” Kaito says, “you’re late.”

The detective frowns, confusion across the lines of his forehead. After a second, they fade into a grimace, “the café meeting… I’m sorry about that – I can exp- Kaito… are you crying..?”

Shinichi takes a step towards him, looking uncertain about whether he should just stand there, or attempt to comfort him. His awkwardness only grows as Kaito lifts his fingers to his cheeks, surprised at the absence of any mask.

“Yeah,” Kaito says, wiping away his own tears. “I am.”

He offers a smile, the brightest he can in an attempt to override the idea that his tears are caused by sadness, and adds, “I guess I just thought I’d never get the chance to meet you.”

_Because Kaito had thought–_

Shinichi glances away, almost guiltily.

“I’m happy,” Kaito says, urges himself to release the small laugh that’s been bubbling up his throat, “even if it’s a little late.”

Shinichi turns back now, eyes steeled as if he’s ready to tell a painful story. Kaito wonders whether he’ll be dragged into sharing his own, he rather hopes he won’t be.

“I’m am sorry,” Shinichi says, “I wanted to tell you I wouldn’t–”

“It’s okay,” Kaito says, and he points towards the end of the bridge, in the direction of a small café that they could make their way towards. He thinks he’s told Shinichi about it before. “Just explain it now.”

Shinichi nods. Together, they start walking towards the edge of the bridge.

“Explain everything.”


End file.
